Dallas Winston Gets Sick
by W cubed
Summary: The big, bad greaser Dallas Winston can't get sick. Can he? What happens when Dally finally does. Friendship fic. No slash. Rated T for mentions of alcohol.


Dally POV

I wake up and roll over on my bed at Buck's. I groan feeling like I just got run over by a monster truck. I cough and drag a hand across my face. I guess the alcohol is getting to me, but I don't remember drinkin much last night. I light up a cancer stick hopin it'll help soothe the hundred symbol symphony clambering around my head. I pull my jeans over my boxers slowly with my achy muscles and go to grease my hair. I look in the mirror only to see a complete and utter mess staring back.

I see some version of me that is pale with splotches of red right around my cheeks. I am sweating like a stuck pig. I even got these big bags under my eyes from my lack of sleep last night. I couldn't sleep at all because I couldn't breathe and it was just so hot in my room. I wash my face with icy water hoping it will help my appearance. I start working the grease into my hair cautiously. The motion only irritates the pounding in my skull.

I pull on my leather coat as a shiver suddenly runs up my spine. I walk down through the bar to leave and I get attacked by a bout of nausea at the stench of stale alcohol and smoke around the bar, not that I can really smell anything any way. Smoke is usually one of my favorite smell, but today it's just sickening. I put out my cigarette and decide to head to the Curtis' house. I start sweating and feel like I'm in an oven or something. I rip off my jacket, but I immediately regret that decision as a blast of air much too cold for the middle of fall clutches at me. I pull open the door to the Curtis house and gratefully close it enveloped in heat.

"Hey Dal!" Two-bit shouts over the Mickey Mouse Show blaring from the TV. I grunt as the noise only adds to my headache and drop onto the couch by Johnny. "Hi." Johnny practically whispers. I just nod in response, too tired to be bothered to speak. I shut my eyes for a minute before I catch a whiff of breakfast. My stomach begins to roll and I groan at the unpleasant sensation. "You alright Dal?" Steve asks half joking, half (obviously) worried. I nod, but then Darry puts on the bacon. Bacon. Why bacon of all things? The smell fills the house and my stomach does a full blown gymnastics routine. In that same instance my eyes flash open and I run to bathroom and last night's dinner made a re-appearance.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and I don't have the energy to shrug it off. I'm not even sure that I really want to shrug it off. I turn around to Johnny. "I'm fine Johnnycake. Go on." I say. He nods hesitantly and walks out. I wash out my mouth and walk into the kitchen. "You sure you're alright Dal?" Darry asks. I just glare icily to silence him. I grab a plate, but I don't eat very much. My stomach keeps protesting, but I don't want anyone to think I'm sick. Not that I am. Cause I'm not. Dallas Winston does not get sick.

"Bye guys. Steve and I gotta get to the DX. We're gonna be late." Soda says pulling on his jacket. "Johnny, Two-bit, Pony. You guys are going to be late for school if you don't go now." Darry scolds. No like Two-bit actually cares or anything. "You gonna stick around Dally? I need to go to work." Darry asks worried. "I'm fine. Get out before I kick you out." I respond, glad to get to be alone. I grab the pillow and extra blankets from the closet determined to take a quick nap before anyone gets back. I burrow into a cocoon of blankets on the couch and my eyelids slip closed quickly. Finally. I can make up for at least some of last night.

I wake up to a blessedly cool hand on my forehead. "Glory Dal. You're burning up." I hear Two-bit mutter worriedly. "Dally. Come on. Wake up Dal." I groan and open my eyes, but the lights hurt way too much, bringing back my head ache. My eyes snap back closed. "Turn off the light." I demand. I open my eyes to a much more tolerable level of light intensity. "What do ya want Two-bit?" I break off into a hacking cough. "Dally I'm gonna check your temperature. I'm pretty sure you're sick." Two-bit says. "What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be in school?" I ask snapping at him, annoyed at being awoken so rudely. "Now I know for sure you're sick." Two-bit smirks jamming that darned thermometer into my mouth. I sit and wait as Two-bit stares at me. Then the _thing_ beeps. I hate those stupid _things. _Golly, I hate them so much. Sorry didn't mean to rant.

"102.3. Glory Dally. Why didn't you tell us you were sick? Someone would've stayed home. I mean any excuse to get out of school is a good excuse, but I mean with Darry always down my throat about graduating I just have to…" Two-bit continues to rant about Darry and school and somehow he winds up on the topic of pancakes. I just roll my eyes at the mother hen act. He can be really annoying sometimes. "Goodnight," I mumble burying myself in my burrito of blankets again.

Two-bit POV

"Two-bit Matthews, go to the office now!" Mrs. Hines shouts. I grab my books and saunter out still laughin it up. I grin and decide to ditch my books in Pony's locker and skip the rest of the day. I sneak out and walk back to the Curtis'. With any luck Dally will still be there and we can head to Buck's for a drink or two or three or ten. I walk the rest of the way with a cigarette in my mouth. I walk up and open the door throwing on the lights.

I spot Dally curled up on the coach under pile of blankets about a mile high. I instantly put out my cigarette and walk up laying my hand on his forehead. I wince in sympathy, "Glory Dal. You're burning up." I mutter. "Dally. Come on. Wake up." I shake him softly and his eyes open before snapping back. "Turn off the light." Dally demands and so I flick the switch. He opens his eyes again. "What do you want Two-bit?" He asks breaking into a horrible cough. "Dally I'm gonna check your temperature. I'm pretty sure you're sick." I walk off to grab the thermometer as Dal grumbles, "What are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be in school?" I laugh, "Now I know for sure you're sick."

The thermometer beeps and I groan internally. "102.3. Dally. Why didn't you tell us you were sick? Someone would've stayed home." Dally rolls his eyes, but I'm completely serious. "Goodnight." He mumbles as he falls back asleep. I grab a glass of water and some aspirin for him when he wakes up. I grab a piece of paper and write, "Silence peasants! Enter with caution! P.S. Dally's sick so shut it." I tape it to the front door and go to the kitchen and down a beer.

Johnny and Pony heed my warning and enter quietly. They talk to me for a while then do their homework. Darry comes in quietly as well. "What happened?" he asks. "I don't know. I ditched school early and found him like that. He was at 102.3 last check." I tell him. "What was up with the sign?" Soda shouts running in with Steve. I hear Dally wake up followed by the sound of vomiting. "Oops."

Dally POV

"What was up with the sign?" Soda shouts. I groan having been rudely awakened when my stomach cartwheels and I find myself hunched over, my head off the coach. Darry runs up and rubs my back in soothing circles. I finish emptying my stomach and mutter, "Sorry bout that Dar." I cough once to clear my throat which leads to a massive coughing fit. I begin to panic. I can't breathe around my gut wrenching coughs. Finally the cough subsides and a drop back onto the couch.

"Dal, I'm going to check your temperature again, then I'll let you have some aspirin." Darry says. I just nod, not wanting to fight anymore. I shut my eyes and Darry puts _it_ back in my mouth. _It_ beeps a minute later. "103.2. Dally if it goes up anymore we're gonna need to bring you to the doctor." Darry tells me. "Na-uh. No doctor. I'm good here." I growl. I just know Darry is shaking his head at me. "Here, take this." I gratefully swallow the aspirin even though it hurts my throat something awful. "Hey, kid," I begin waving at Pony, "gimme a smoke would ya?" He looks at Darry not sure, but Soda just nods at him to go ahead. I take a drag on it relishing the familiar sensation. "Sorry I woke ya up Dal." Soda apologizes. I just roll my eyes and bury myself in sleep again.

Soda POV

I really do feel bad for waking him up. I don't think I've ever seen Dallas so out of it, not even that time he got his arm all burned up. All he wanted then was to hit on the nurses. I go to kitchen to make him some soup. Now don't get me wrong I am a horrible cook, but soup I can do. It's canned soup, but whatever. I put it on the oven and start up a game of poker with Steve and Two-bit. I grin and set down my royal flush to a chorus of, "Cheater!" when the fire alarm goes off. The soup. I run over to the burnt soup. "Sorry!" I shout. I take it off the heat and try to scrape it into the trash.

"Stop!" Two-bit shouts. "Gimme that." I hand it over and he grabs a spoon and eats it. "You know, I worry about you sometimes." Steve intones. Two-bit just smirks and continues eating his burnt soup. He rushes over to the refrigerator and grabs a beer and pours it into a pot. "If you keep that up I might just join Dally over there." I grimace. All I get in response is another smirk. I leave the kitchen o check up on him and find Darry reading a newspaper in his chair. "Stop." Dally mumbles in his sleep. He tosses and says louder, "I told you to stop." He begins tossing violently shouting, "NO!" Dar and I both run up at the same time. Darry sits on the edge of the couch and brushes the sweaty hair back off of his forehead. "Hey, Dally wake up, please." Darry says gently trying to pull him out of whatever nightmare he's enduring I sit on the floor by him and take up his hand noticing how cold and clammy it is. "Come on Dal. You're alright. We're right here for ya buddy." I whisper softly. "NO!" he shouts one last time before shooting up from his seat. "I… I… I-I sorry. I j-just." He begins. "It's alright Dally. It's fine really." Darry says, "Go back to sleep alright."

This time when Dally wakes up he does so of his own accord. Darry comes up to him, "How you feelin Dal?" Dally just grunts and nods his head in the typical Dallas fashion. "I'm just going to take your temperature again. "Nah, Dar. I'm fine. Bye!" He shouts. I try to stop him, but he does look a lot better. I follow him to the window and watch as he walks away. He has to stop at the mail box to take a rest though. He is completely back to normal, but he's definitely better.

"Well. That was weird." Two-bit says. And it certainly was. Who would have thought that the big bad Dallas Winston could get sick?


End file.
